


Wanna Be Yours

by rosarmio



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abusive Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider, Angst, Childhood Friends, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Minor Gamzee Makara/Karkat Vantas, POV Dave Strider, Pining, Slow Burn, Trans Character, Trans Dave Strider
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29055612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosarmio/pseuds/rosarmio
Summary: Your name is Dove Stri- *DAVE Strider, and you have a crush on your best friend. The unfortunate side of this is that you are nowhere near his league and he is a troll. A very angry troll.
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 11
Kudos: 50





	1. In Which You Give a Troll A Bloody Nose

**Author's Note:**

> written BY A TRANS MAN thank you i am not fetishizing or being gross this is literally based on my experiences lmao.

You’d never seen a kid with grey skin before. Yeah, sure, there’s a couple of adults you’ve seen around, but never many, and never a kid. Not until now, entering first grade, have you ever seen a kid with grey skin. Half the gymnasium is grey kids, all with different shades and undertones. Some have big, coiled horns, and some with smaller horns. 

Trolls, that’s what your sister told you they were. They started moving here from a different planet a year ago, meaning they’re aliens, which is super cool. 

Everyone is walking to their class, and you should do the same. The issue with that is that you were paying absolutely no attention when Rose told you who your teacher was. Instead, you just roam the hallways. Maybe you’ll just guess who your teacher is. Intuition and all.

A short little troll boy, who looks about your age, is also roaming the hallways. You creep up behind him. “Heya. You don’t know who your teacher is either?”

He jumps, almost punching you in the process, then scowls at you. “No, screw off.”

Instead, you follow him to where he ends up, a classroom. Also first grade, actually. The class has already begun, but the teacher sees you and this angry troll boy and sighs. “You two must be Karkat Vantas and Dove Strider, correct?”

Intuition, hell fucking yeah. Karkat, huh? Funky name. But he is a troll, so a funky name makes sense. 

Your teacher gets you and Karkat situated in class, the two of you sitting next to each other in the back. “Hey, Karkat, that’s your name, huh? It’s cool. Karkat, I like cars, but I also like cats, so I bet I’ll really like you, yaknow? I’m honestly more of a dog person but cats are cute. You look like a cat actually! Your hair is all fluffy and you’ve got big, bright eye-,” You start, rambling as you usually do, when Karkat interrupts.

“Leave me alone, you’re so weird.”

You just cock your head and look at him. Really? You’re the weird one? He has grey skin and horns. 

“Nah, I think you’re cool. Weird too. We oughtta be friends.”

He snarls and glares at you. “I said screw off. Back up before I drag you across the floor and beat your ass.”

His language is the only thing that catches you off guard. You just laugh a bit. “Okay, whatever you say Kark.”

It’s been a few days since school started. You’ve made some good friends, John and Jade. They’re pretty nice, but Jade doesn’t come to school every day because of her sleepy issue. You know she called it something, but you can’t remember what. John is nice too. He’s sorta a nerd, but you think it’s funny. 

Karkat still doesn’t like you, but for some reason, you’re determined to be his friend. 

You and Jade are walking outside to recess together when you see a familiar pair of nubby horns. “Be back in a bit, gotta bug Karks!” You tell Jade, and as you run over to Karkat, you notice two other boys with him. They don’t look much older. One is a human, the other is a troll, wearing lots of indigo colors, probably showing off his blood color or whatever it was Rose said they have.

Sneaking up, you begin to eavesdrop. 

“C’mon nubs, what is it, huh? You a rust blood like you said or a fuckin’ mutant?” The other troll snarls, and the human laughs. 

“Speak up nubs. What is it, huh? You gonna make us find out on our own?” The human threatens, and you peek around the wall to see they’ve got Karkat cornered. Poor kid. What’ve they even got on him?

Karkat says nothing, though. The indigo troll snickers, then nods. The human boy knocks Karkat over, and the two bullies begin to kick Karkat, who is lying on the ground, trying to cover his head from the blows. 

You run over, and before even thinking, shout, “Ayo, idiots!” and right as the troll turns over to face you, you punch him, and his nose cracks. Thank god for Bro’s training. The troll stammers, holding his face, then backs away, turning to run, as the human boy chases him. 

“Wh-... What was that for? Why’d you do that?”

You reach a hand out to Karkat and he takes it hesitantly, and you help him stand. “You don’t deserve to get picked on.” 

Karkat’s eyes go wide, and he wipes at his nose, which is bleeding pretty badly.

“C’mon, let’s get ya to the nurse.”

The walk down to the nurse’s is quiet, but gives you time to look at Karkat in more detail, since he’s so concerned and distracted by his nose bleeding. He’s got some major eye bags, he must not sleep much. There’s some small scars on his face. What’re those from? Especially the one on his cheek, a bigger one, like a cut. That’s his left cheek, you think. 

It’s probably best not to ask, though. Not yet.

The nurse is pretty suspicious of you when you drop Karkat off. “Dove, did you hurt Karkat?” She asks.

“No, ma’am. I ain’t touch him.”

She looks at you, deadpan, for a minute, then turns to Karkat. “Did she hit you?”

He just stares at her, eyes big and scared, and shakes his head. “Nuh-uh.”

By the time she’s given up trying to figure out if you hit Karks or not, his nose has stopped bleeding for the most part, and the nurse has sent you and Karkat back to class, since recess is over. Karkat speaks actual words for the first time in a while too. “Why do you wear those weird pointy glasses?”

“My Bro gave ‘em to me! We got light sensitivities. The lights gimme killer migraines.”

Karkat raises his eyebrows. “Your bro? What’s that?”

You laugh. This kid really doesn’t know much. “He’s my older brother! He’s the coolest. He teaches me how to strife, an’ he got me these sick glasses!” 

He doesn’t seem super impressed by that. “Do you have a Lusus?” 

“Huh? A what?”

“Like, a parent.”

You think hard. Isn’t Bro your parent? He’s just your brother. But your teachers always call him your parent, so what is he? “Uh, Bro is. He’s my parent, too.” 

“Human biology is weird. I don’t understand you guys.”

It‘s more of a you thing, not a human thing, but you don’t tell him that. 

As each day goes by, Karkat starts letting you in a bit more. It’s safe to say that he’s let you be his friend. That doesn’t mean he’s been the kindest, but you’re starting to think he’s hostile as a way of showing that he cares. 

“Uh, would you wanna come over after school?” He asks you one day during lunch. He’s eating a sandwich his older brother made for him. You have no idea what’s in it, but it’s probably best not to ask. 

Well, shit. You’re not allowed to leave the apartment unless you’re going to school. “Sorry, I ain’t allowed to.” 

Karkat tries not to look as disappointed, but it’s obvious that he’s hurt. You feel bad. You wish Bro would let you leave the house more often, but everything he does is for good reason, so you may as well just deal with it. 

“That’s fine.”

He doesn’t talk for the rest of the day. 

But he sure as hell does talk a lot a few months later, on your birthday. “Why didn’t you tell me? I wanna get you something! This isn’t fair!” He yells, and his two sharp-ish fangs start to show a bit. That’s how you know he’s seriously angry. 

“It’s fine, dude. I ain’t ever celebrated my birthday.”

He cocks his head. “Don’t humans have birthday parties every year?” He asks, and you start to feel awkward. 

“That just ain’t a thing for me.” You shrug, and Karkat pouts. 

“Well, I wanna throw you a big party! Like the kids in the movies! Balloons and cake and presents and all your friends! This isn’t fair, why can’t you have a party?” He complains, and you just shrug. You’re used to this by now. You’re seven now, you have no reason to be upset about this stuff.

It’s not a big deal. You’re a big girl. You don’t need a party. It’s fine. Don’t cry. 

Don’t cry, Dove. 

A small, salty tear hits your lip. 

You do want a party. You wanna have a birthday, wanna have Hannukah, wanna have Thanksgiving, wanna have Halloween and New Year’s Eve like everyone else. Like Rose. She gets to do those things with Mom. That’s not fair. You should be able to as well. 

No, stop. Bro says living with him is what’s best for you. It is, he trains you. He prepares you for what you’ll actually need in life. Not some stupid holidays or parties. How to deal with dangerous people. How to be safe.

“I don’t want a party,” You deadpan, and Karkat’s sorrowful face turns to shock. 

“What? Why not?”

“None of your business. I don’t want a party.”

You walk off to your bus. School just ended for the day thankfully. You feel bad for being mean to Karkat, but you don’t want to talk to him right now. 

The key to your apartment jams a few times when you get home.”Ugh! Stupid lock!” You kick the door and it swings open. Bro stands right in front of you. 

“Roof in five.”

The three words you look forward to most. That means training! Bro is better than any other brother or dad at training. No other kid your age knows how to swordfight anywhere near as well as you do. Someday, maybe you’ll be as good as Bro is. 

You run to your room and throw your bookbag onto the floor. Bro gave you your very own sword not too long ago. It used to be his, apparently, but it’s way too small for him now, and just small enough for you to use. You grab it and run up to the roof where Bro is waiting for you. 

Bro nods, that means the strife is starting. 

He steps toward you real quick. You adjust your stance to block and hold your sword out. The blades collide but his strike hits too hard for you to block well enough. Bro steps back and before you can think, his sword swings around and cuts across your stomach. Not too deep, but you’re definitely bleeding. 

It’s no big deal. You’ll get a bandage later. 

You strike at Bro, but he blocks and quickly cuts across your cheek. It stings.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. This is too much. You’re so weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. 

You didn’t know you blacked out, in all honesty, but you gained awareness once the strife was over. You’re standing on the roof. Bro is gone. Your face, stomach, and arms are bleeding and bruised. You need to get stronger. He’s training you for a reason.

Why are you such a failure? He’s trying to help you, but you’re weak and you can’t do anything right. You need to try harder. Prove to him that you can do it. 

Smuppets trip you on your way to your room. Sometimes you think they’re watching you. Especially Cal. They all seem to have eyes. You always feel like you’re being watched. They almost seem alive. 

You wrap up your wounds with the bandage you stole from the gas station store. Bro doesn’t buy you any, ‘cause you’re a big kid, you can get it yourself. Same goes for food. You don’t mind, you like Doritos and apple juice. 

Life’s not too bad. Why do you even complain? You got a cool Bro, apple juice, and you get to sword fight. Life is good. You’ve got Karkat, and John, and Rose, and Jade. Your life is great.

You can’t wait until you get to middle school.


	2. In Which You Put a Hole In The Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter may induce dysphoria just fyi for yall . once again this is based on my own experiences blah blah before anyone gets pissy with me

“Look at them! I bet they’re boyfriend and girlfriend!” 

You’ve decided middle school sucks. Some of the older kids won’t leave you and Karkat alone. Sixth grade just started, and rumors are already being spread about you two. 

“Nah, look at them. They’re definitely both fuckin’ queers.”

That comment boils your blood the most every time. Karkat’s too, obviously, because he snarls and turns to charge at the kid who said it, but you grab his shoulder and arm, holding him back. “Hey, it’s alright. Don’t pay ‘em any mind. That’s what they want.”

Karkat, over the years since first grade, has become way more hostile towards people. He won’t say why, either. He’s nice to you, and some of his other friends. 

His friends are a very mixed group of people, or, uh, trolls. Nepeta is cool, so is Terezi. Aradia and Tavros are cool too. You and Tavros have rap battles sometimes. He kinda sucks, but you’re not gonna tell him that. Eridan is cool, too, though he’s super dramatic about everything and sorta an ass, and constantly pining over someone, right now being Feferi. 

Kanaya is the raddest of them all. She and Karkat have been tight since he moved here. She’s really good to him, so you like her. 

Vriska is a fucking nightmare though. You hate Vriska, she’s a bitch to you and Karkat. She teases you two about being such good friends. Says you must be dating each other and shit. 

Oddly enough, John seems to like her. Not romantically, just as a person. They get along, surprisingly. 

Speak of the devil, she’s standing right in front of Karkat’s locker. The two of you were just about to get your bags to go home. 

“‘Sup shortie. Hey piss-drinker. Got any cash?” She asks, looming over the two of you. 

“Nope. Maybe ask the high schoolers. Since, y’know, they actually have jobs?” You tell her, and she scoffs and walks off, probably to get cash out of some other kids. 

Karkat grumbles to himself while he unlocks his locker, and you unlock yours. “What’s wrong Kark?” You ask, and he sighs.

“I just don’t like the kids here. The humans and the trolls. They all suck.”

You sigh as well. “Yeah, I get it.” You grab your bag out of the locker and slam it shut. The two of you start walking to his bus. You’re both going to his hive to “study”. Bro’s letting you do that sort of stuff now if you’re good. You just have to do chores when you get home. 

It’s quiet as the two of you walk onto one of the troll busses. You show the bus driver your note, which you had to forge, giving you permission to ride with Karkat, and the two of you walk to his seat. 

A purpleblood attempts to trip Karkat as you both walk, but you grab Karkat by the turtleneck and halt him. “The fuck was that for, Dove?” He shouts, and you motion at the foot placed to trip him. He un-tenses, and steps over the purpleblood’s outward leg. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled,” Karkat apologizes once you both sit down. He leans his head on your shoulder, which is unusual, but not unwelcomed. It’s nice, comforting, even. 

“It’s okay. I can see why you got upset, no worries,” You tell him, and he nods.

The rest of the bus ride is a silence between you two, but it’s a comfortable silence. You both get off the bus, and as you’re walking up the stairs to Karkat’s hive, you see a moving truck nearby. 

“Is a new troll moving in?” You ask, and Karkat smiles and nods. 

“Yeah, a bunch of my old friends I used to talk to on my computer are finally moving to Earth. That’s Gamzee. He’s living with his older brother.” 

You watch as the tall, big horned troll carries a box into the hive. “How old is he? He’s like six foot…” 

“Our age. He’s just tall like that. He and Sollux, who also just moved down here, are freakishly tall compared to everyone else we’re friends with, but we’re all the same age,” Karkat tells you, opening the door and taking off his shoes once inside. You do the same. 

His socks are cute. They have little crabs on them. He’s so silly. Your socks are just plain old white socks. 

Kankri is in the cooking-section, or the kitchen. “Hello, welcome back from school. Please don’t make a mess. I’m about to be off to work. I’ll be home before you go back to school tomorrow, Karkat,” He says, and Karkat gives a thumbs up. 

The two of you flop down onto the loveseat and turn on the TV and Playstation. Karkat won it in a giveaway for troll kids who can’t afford consoles. You were super psyched about that because you never got to play a Playstation before. 

“See you later Kankri,” Karkat calls out as he passes you a remote control. The front door shuts loudly as Kankri leaves. 

You found it weird that Kankri would work nightshift. He just doesn’t seem like that kinda guy. But whatever you can do to get money is what you’ve gotta do. 

“Okay, what do you wanna play?” Karkat asks, and you smirk, which he understands as ‘the usual’. He sets the disc in and the big red blocky letters pop up onto the screen. 

Minecraft. Ah, sweet, sweet Minecraft. The two of you, or mostly Karkat, just beat the ender dragon, so the two of you decided to start a new world. He starts to set it up and you see him turn the level difficulty to ‘Easy’.

“Hey! Hey, woah, woah! Normal, easy is for pussies, pussy!” You tease, and Karkat rolls his eyes.

“If anyone here is a pussy, it’s you,” He replies, and it makes your stomach churn and sink for some reason. You can’t help but frown a bit. You don’t know why.

You just ignore him as he turns it back to normal mode. The two of you spawn on an island with one tree. 

“What the fuck are we supposed to do with this?” Karkat shouts, and you laugh at him a bit.

Chopping down the tree, you watch as he just sprints around the island. “Karkat, my boy, all we have to do is make a boat. Allow me.” You make a crafting table and create a boat.

“Only one? Ugh, only if I get to drive.” 

But despite his plead, you drop the boat into the water and get in first. “C’mon Kark, you don’t wanna be stuck on an island forever.” He groans and gets in the boat.

So your Minecraft journey begins. Like the last one, but with a lot more of Karkat cussing at you and saying you should let him drive the boat.

Which is nice. Karkat is nice to be around. He’s funny, and he isn’t trying to be funny, but he makes you laugh anyway. Sometimes he’ll slap your arm playfully and it’ll make your face go hot which is weird but you try not to pay it any mind. 

He has a nice smile, too. All the trolls have different arrays of fangs and shit, most of them being a mouth full of sharp teeth, but for some reason, Karkat’s is more “human”. Like a vampire, honestly. All of his teeth are sorta sharp, but not much more than yours or Rose’s or any other human’s. He then just has two fangs where your canines are. It’s cute. Not in like a romantic way.

It’s just kinda cute. He plays this scary, angry, asshole act, but you know that he’s actually not any of that. Well, he is angry. But like, not at everything. Preteen angst or something. But he’ll tell you if he’s angry and why he’s angry. It’s kind of a breath of fresh air. You don’t get that at home.

Not that Bro is like, bad, or anything. You just, well, it’s nice to be around someone who wears their heart on their sleeve. When you fuck up around Bro, you don’t know until he challenges you to strife or hits you, which is fine, but training just gets a bit tiring, as grateful as you are. 

But with Karkat, if you fuck up, he’ll tell you, yell about it for half a minute, and then go back to the same-old-same-old Karkat, trying to beat you in video games and getting defensive for you when someone calls you a shitty name. 

He’s just a good friend. 

So what if you find yourself wanting to be around him constantly? You don’t believe what the kids at your school say about you two. You don’t like him like that. You don’t like anyone like that. You just can’t see yourself being a bride to someone’s groom. That’s just not something you can see yourself doing.

Karkat is just your best friend. It’s as simple as that. 

“Alright spinal crevice, Earth to Dove! We gotta study at some point or Kankri’s gonna take away my husktop,” He says, waving his hand in your face. You snap out of your thoughts. 

Karkat turns off the Playstation and grabs your bookbags, unzipping them both and grabbing your folders. “Starting with math like usual?” He asks, and you nod. 

Math sucks ass. All the numbers jumble together and you can’t quite get anything right. Karkat has to help you. “Thirteen times seven?” He asks, and fuck, you try and think. 

You just type it into the calculator. “One hundred and nineteen.”

“No, that’s seven times seventeen. Dove, seriously, I think you have dyscalculia. You need to ask your Bro to talk to your doctor,” Karkat sighs, and you shrink into your chair.

Numbers have always been weird for you. Seven and three always switch up. You hear three when someone says seven, you see seven when someone writes three, you say three when you mean seven. You’ve been like this since kindergarten. But you don’t go to the doctor. Ever. Other than for vaccines that your school makes you get, and even then, usually Bro just forges a note saying you got them.

“It’s difficult, okay? You wouldn’t get it. Can we just finish the homework?”

At seven, you have to leave. Your apartment complex is just a block or so away. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow, okay?” Karkat says, obviously tired. He’s got some really major eyebags. Even still. You wonder if he sleeps. Every time you ask, he dodges the question. 

“Yeah, see you man. Get some rest, alright?” You shut the door behind you.

The doorknob squeaks like usual when you open it when you get to the apartment. That means Bro knows you’re home. You shut the door, and when you turn around, there he is. “Chore list is on the counter. Get ‘em done tonight,” Bro tells you, monotone as ever, then disappears into his room. 

Kicking a smuppet to the side, you walk over to the kitchen counter. All you need to do tonight is clean the fridge of anything expired and get shit out from under the sofa. Bro likes the house sorta messy, but those are two things he can’t stand. 

You start with the fridge. There isn’t much in there that isn’t swords, which you push aside, but the rest is all his food and a shit ton of beer. He doesn’t drink it every night or anything, but when he does, it’s quite a lot. Then there’s shit like deli meat and cheese, and two boxes of pizza that are who knows how old.

You don’t get to eat anything in there when you throw it out. Bro has cameras everywhere. This is part of the training, be on your best behavior, don’t break rules. When you say everywhere, you mean everywhere, the bathroom, your room, the kitchen, you name it. They’re mostly hidden, but you know there are several in each room. 

Once you’re done with the fridge, you go to the living room, careful not to step on swords or smuppets. Under the couch is a moldy slice of pizza, a couple of smuppets, and an old shoe. You clear them out, throwing away the pizza. 

Just as you’re throwing away the slice of pizza, you get a weird queasy feeling in your lower stomach, then a pain that feels like being punched in the belly button. You head to the bathroom, convinced you’re about to throw up or something, and lean over the toilet, but the weird feeling doesn’t stop, despite not throwing up.

Fuck. You sit on the toilet and pull down your pants and underwear to see that- Yep. Fuck. You started your period. Gross. Fuck. You don’t have pads or anything. Shit, shit, shit. In a state of panic, you wrap up some toilet paper as a pad around your underwear, run to your room, and pester Rose. 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] --

TG: rose  
TG: rose  
TG: rose help  
TT: Hello, Dove. What is the problem?  
TG: i started my period  
TG: i dont have pads or anything  
TT: You wish for me to deliver some, I assume?  
TG: well  
TG: yeah  
TT: Fine, this once I will do you a favor. You are very lucky I happen to not be far away as of now.  
TG: youre the best sister in the world i love you thank you  
TT: I am aware.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] --

A breath of relief. She really is the best. 

She wasn’t lying, she’s pestered you to let you know she left the pads outside your apartment door just ten minutes later. She must be with Kanaya. 

You sneakily tun and grab them, then figure how to put them on, with a clean pair of underwear of course. 

That’s when it sinks in. You fucking hate this. This is horrible. Why do you have to have a period? Wouldn’t it be easier to just be a boy? You hate, hate, hate, hate, hate this. Not because it’s gross, which it is, but because it isn’t fair. You don’t want to have a period. You don’t want any of this stupid girl puberty shit. 

You can feel the anger boiling and boiling up inside you. Your ears ring, your palms sweat, everything is blurry. This isn’t fair. You want to punch someone. You want to die. 

The tiled floor is warm when you gain consciousness. There’s blood on the floor, just a little bit. Fuck, did you bleed through? You raise your hands to help yourself and see your bloody knuckles as the source of the blood. Then you look up and see a couple of dents and one big hole in the wall.

Fuck.


	3. In Which You Lean a Certain Troll is a Sympathy Puker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dysphoria warning again whooo anyway uh i guess mentions of puke are in this one too. but its cute i promise.

Seventh grade sucks just as much as sixth grade, even if now all the sixth graders are scared of you. P.E. this year is horrible. Tomorrow you guys have to learn waltzing as part of the dance unit, and this is, of course, the first time you get assigned a partner of the opposite gender. 

Not to mention this year, your periods are worse. It’s been a whole year and they don’t get any better, they won’t go away. Well, they aren’t supposed to go away, but you sure as hell wish they would.

You’ve also started, as Rose said, “developing breasts”, so Rose had to go and get sports bras for you. You refuse to wear any other kind. 

To be honest, you’re not sure which is worse. When you look in the mirror before you shower, it just… doesn’t look like you. You feel like you’re in someone else’s body. 

You’d be a fucking cat before you told any of that to Rose, knowing damn well she’d psychoanalyze you to the core. 

But it sucks ass. All the girls in your grade seem to be fine, and, almost excited? Which is so fucking weird. Why the fuck would you want cancerous lumps of dough on your chest? 

The bell rings, snapping you out of your thoughts. You grab your book bag and walk with John to gym class as you put your hair up in a ponytail. 

“I hope I get partnered with you, Dove. I don’t wanna dance with some random girl. That’d be so weird. Just in case though, I brushed my teeth twice this morning. Can you smell my breath?” John asks, and you give him a raised eyebrow. 

“No way, I’m not smelling your assbreath, Egbert.”

“You sound like Karkat,” He laughs, and your face heats up for some reason. 

The two of you part ways at the locker rooms, and when you enter the girls’ locker room, no one pays any attention to you. As usual, the way you like it. 

Getting changed is uncomfortable as fuck. You hate knowing that the girls can see your body and shit. That they’re judging you. They’re looking at you and thinking Ew, why does Dove have weird scars? What’s up with her having tits already? Fuckin’ weirdo. 

It’s not a nice knowledge to have, but it’s the truth. Everyone thinks you’re a fuckin’ freak. 

So you change as quickly as possible. Even then, the basketball shorts and a t-shirt as your uniform do a whole whopping nothing to hide the strife scars. 

“Nice shoes, Bird-brain,” a girl calls out to you. Ah, haha, funny, because your name is Dove. How clever. You look down at your shoes though. Red converse, the same ones you’ve had for about a year now. They’re getting a bit small but they’re shoes, and that’s what matters.

What’s wrong with them?

The girl scoffs and laughs. “What? Do you walk through dog shit every day in those? Get some new shoes already. Or are you just that poor? Should we call you Food Stamps, instead?” She teases, and you keep your stoic face. Don’t let them know you’re upset.

It kinda stings though. You do want new shoes, but Bro won’t buy you any until these start to make your toes bleed. Another part of the training, don’t waste money on new shit unless you absolutely need it, make yourself stronger. 

You just walk out to the gym. Everyone is running laps for the warm-up. You look for Terezi, you and she have the same pace, plus, sometimes she uses you as a way to know when to turn. 

She finds you first, of course. “Hey, Dove, wanna run?” She asks and doesn’t even let you answer before she pulls you onto the track. 

You two are two of the fastest in the class, along with Karkat and Nepeta. You wouldn’t expect that from the last two, since they’re both rather short. But Nep used to hunt on her home planet. Karkat, well, you don’t know why. He doesn’t talk about life on Alternia. 

The teacher blows her whistle and you all gather around her by the whiteboard. “Alright. Warm-ups were good today? Yeah?” She asks, and no one responds. “Well, today, as you’ve all been made aware, we’re moving onto the next chapter of the dance lesson, Waltzing.”

Everyone groans, pretty much. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same way.

“Okay, I’ve got a list of randomly generated partners, all boy and girl, sorry y’all.”

John sends you a hopeful look, and you smirk and cross your fingers. 

But John gets paired with some other girl. The same girl that called you Bird-Brain. He frowns, but you do know he’s happy to be paired with a pretty girl. 

Maybe they forgot to pair you, you think, mostly because when they get to the S last names, you aren’t called. The rest is just hope.

“Karkat Vantas, Dove Strider. Again, no complaining about interspecies pairings please!” The teacher calls out, and you and Karkat give each other a grin and run towards each other.

You both give a fist-bump. “Thank gog! I didn’t wanna be paired with anyone else. Girls are weird. I mean, you’re a girl, but like, you’re just different. It’s different for you.”

For some odd reason, that makes your ego rise a bit, and you feel way better about this all. Hell yes. For whatever reason. 

The teacher then finishes assigning pairs, and instructs how to position your hands, and oh. Karkat’s hand is on your hip, the other hand in yours. Part of you is uncomfortable, wishing your hand was on his hip, his on your shoulder. The other part of you is uncomfortable in a different way.

Your palms are sweating, and you feel hot, and your face is definitely red. When Karkat flashes you a smile, you get even hotter.

Ugh, you think you’re coming down with something.

When you two start dancing, the feeling only gets more prominent. But Karkat doesn’t seem to notice, so you play it off like nothing is happening. “Dude, c’mon, the boy is supposed to be the taller one in this dance. Grow an inch already,” You tease, whispering.

Karkat sends a joke snarl. “Shut up, we’re the same height.”

The teacher shouts over the waltzing music, “Boys, you can also wrap your arm around your lady’s hip, your hand on her back!”

Please don’t do that, please don’t do that, please do that, please don’t-

Karkat’s hand wraps around to your back, bringing the two of you even closer. Your heart races, you hope he can’t feel it beating, because you definitely can. 

Your ears are ringing, and Karkat is talking and you’re just staring at his eyes. They’re so big and the grey looks like a storm cloud and you can almost feel the rain, or is it sweat, you can’t tell anymore. But he becomes the only thing you can focus on. 

He makes a joke, you don’t hear it, but you hear his laugh after he cracks it, and you feel the way his grip on your hand squeezes when he laughs and how he subconsciously pulls you a bit closer, and then there’s a big, bright light.

“Dove? What the fuck?” You hear his voice, you’re lying down. You open your eyes, and you’re still in gym class, and Karkat has his arms wrapped around you, and the gym teacher is sprinting over. 

Some kids gather around. What the hell?

“Hey, what happened?” The teacher asks, and you shrug, dizzy.

Karkat frowns. “Dove passed out, I think.”

“Take Dove to the nurse’s office, help her walk, and make sure she doesn’t pass out on her way there.”

You don’t listen to the rest of the conversation, you just let Karkat help you up, and let him wrap his arm around your shoulder, walking you to the nurse’s office. 

“Haha, this feels awfully familiar,” You joke, referring to how you two both became friends in the first place, and Karkat obviously holds back a laugh.

Instead, he scolds you. “This isn’t funny! What happened? Are you okay?”

You shrug, still dizzy. “I’m fine, dude. Just got really dizzy and hot and shit. Probably have a fever. Fuck, wait, can trolls get fevers?” You ask, and he shakes his head.

“Not the same kind, no. You won’t get me sick. It’s a good thing your best friend is a freak alien, huh?” He jokes, and looks over at you with a soft grin that makes your stomach drop.

“Uh, let’s hurry. I think I might throw up.”

The nurse doesn’t look amused when you get sick into her trash can. When you’re done, you slowly turn your head to look at an annoyed Nurse Nancy and a wide-eyed Karkat.

The nurse shakes her head. “We have a toilet just to the left for that exact reason, Miss Strider.”

Karkat is the one to respond first, with a thumbs up and a quick pace to the bathroom, where you soon hear him getting sick as well. 

Nurse Nancy sighs. “Sympathy puker, huh? Alright, I’ll go check on Vantas. You get a drink of water, alright hun?” 

You get up and get a cup from the dispenser, filling it with water, then get another cup of water for Karkat, who is lowkey having an anxiety attack or something right now. You walk over to the bathroom and the nurse tries to shoo you off but you ignore her. “Yo, Karkat, what’s wrong?” 

He looks up at you with pink-ish tears in his eyes, and quickly covers and wipes them. “I’m f… fine,” He trembles, and the nurse just looks back and forth between you two.

“You two should go lie down. I’ll call your parents and have them drive you home.”

Karkat nods and starts to get up, but panic alarms blare in your head. “Uh, wait! You can’t call my dad. He… lost his phone. I can go home with Karkat.”

Nancy raises an eyebrow and rolls her eyes. “I gotta at least try and call him, I’ll get fired. If he doesn’t answer, Mr. Vantas can take you home.” She reaches for the phone and calls Bro as you shakily walk to the resting area. Karkat is already in a bed, trembling as well. 

You can both hear Nurse Nancy from behind the wall. “Hello, Mr. Strider. I’m calling about your daughter, Dove. She passed out and got sick at school today. She’s alright now and will be going home with a friend unless you call me back. Thank you.” The phone drops. 

You’re about to lie down in a bed next to Karkat when the phone picks up again. “Hello, is this Karkat Vantas’ parent?” Silence. “Oh, uh…” The roll of her office chair, and she appears at the door to the resting area. “Karkat, what is your father or mother’s number?” She asks.

Karkat, trembling, sits up, hands covering his face. “I don’t have one. It’s just Kankri.”

You guess… you always thought he just lived with his brother. You didn’t know he doesn’t have parents. Despite being born from eggs, you know all trolls have at least one parent.

The nurse apologizes. “Oh, sorry, I had no idea.” She rolls away on her chair. Karkat just shakily lies back down. You sit down on the bed that’s next to his, and flop onto your back with a sigh. It’s after that, that you hear muffled cries. 

Peeking over at Karkat, you see that he’s curled up in a ball, gripping himself and sobbing. Warily, you walk over to him, and gently touch his shoulder. He flinches. “Karkat? It’s just me. What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, Dove. Go away.”

You sit next to him on the bed. “No, you aren’t dude. What’s wrong?” You miss the Karkat you know. The one who wears his heart on his sleeve. 

That’s when he comes back. Karkat sits up, hiding his face, and weeps, “I j… just don’t like… like vomit or bl…” He trips on his words, “blood. I miss my lusus, Crabdad, I miss him. I want him back!” He shouts, and you’re sure Nurse Nancy heard. 

You just pull Karkat into a hug and let him cry onto your shoulder. “I miss him so much, I wanna see Crabdad. This isn’t fair, he should be here,” he cries, and despite not knowing what he’s talking about, you can put the pieces together. 

He misses his dad.

Kankri shows up not too much later. He sees you and Karkat hugging on the bed, and his face drops when he sees Karkat hiccuping sobs. 

“Oh my, Karkat. Are you alright?” He asks, and Karkat carefully and slowly looks up at Kankri. His cheeks are stained with dark pink streaks. Tears? 

You help Karkat up after a couple seconds because he seems rather weak at the current moment. He leans on you as you walk out to Kankri’s car, Kankri carrying both of your bags. 

Karkat falls asleep with his head on your collar in the car before Kankri has even left the parking lot. It’s nice. 

Looking back at the two of you through the mirror, Kankri asks, “Would you like to be dropped off at your apartment building? You can also stay for dinner, as I am sure Karkat would appreciate your company.”

You think for a second or two, then decide staying for dinner is the best option. For Karkat’s sake. 

Karkat wakes up as you pull into the parking space, and looks up at you, eyes squinted, then lets his head fall back onto your shoulder. He obviously hasn’t gotten much sleep, so this is probably good for him. 

Kankri must notice that as well, because instead of waking him back up, he carries Karkat up to the apartment and into what you assume is his room. 

You follow, but you’ve never been in Karkat’s room. You both usually hang out in the living room. It’s small, and the shelves make you think it’s meant to be a large closet or small storage area. 

There are little hints of Karkat everywhere. There are movie posters and discs, lots of dark sweaters, and a crab comforter on his twin bed, which Karkat sets him on, and drapes the comforter over him. He then turns to you. “If you wish to hang out with Karkat, I’m sure he would like to have company for when he wakes up.”

Kankri is gone before you can answer.

You look over at Karkat, asleep, shaking still, and frown. 

To be honest, what happened today was your fault. You feel horrible. You want to make it up to him somehow. There’s not really a way to do that now, he’s asleep. You know he’s gonna need comfort when he wakes up though. 

Hmm… Boom, idea. You carefully climb into bed with Karkat and lie down with your arm wrapped around him, his back pressed to your chest. He adjusts in his sleep, turning around to rest his head under your chin. He smells like peppermint, probably his shampoo. It’s relaxing.

You end up falling asleep there with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> seeee i promised it was cute ! anyway thank you guys for giving kudos and bookmarking and commenting !! the comments are so fun to read and make my day !


	4. In Which You Come to a Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dysphoria warnin. again. lmao.

By the time your next period comes around, you’re fucking done. You rush to your room when you get home from school and open your computer. 

The search bar seems extremely intimidating for the first time… ever. 

Fuckin’... whatever, uhh… 

Search: hates puberty?

You scroll through article upon article. Nothing. 

Search: hates period?

Lots of websites, this could be promising. You know there’s something wrong with you, you know it. You’re gonna find out what it is, you’ve gotta. 

Every article is about how teenage girls get over hating their period.

Fucking fuck.

Search: uhhhhhh bjklask; zaws4xed5crf6vtg7b8 n9jm0kp,. =’//’]

You slam your head onto and along the keyboard. You just want to know what’s wrong with you. For once, you want to know why you can’t relate to any of your girl classmates, why you hate becoming a woman when everyone else is excited to do just that.

Search: hates becoming a woman?

Booyah. An article, or, more of someone asking the internet a question. 

‘Hi, I’m Isobel and I’m 13. All my friends at school are super delighted to become a woman, but I’m disappointed. I hate it. I hate when my friends call me a girl, or the fact that I’m going through female puberty… stuff… and I just hate this. Is this natural? Is there something wrong with me?’

Isobel seems… really similar to you. You feel the same way. You just can’t see yourself becoming a woman and the idea of doing so makes you feel sick. 

The comments are mostly pretty helpful.

‘LavenderLover13: hey isobel! I’ve been in a situation like that before. Mine was a bit different, and I grew out of it. I’d wait for more responses, since my experience was a bit different to yours’. Good luck!’

‘Jester01: Hey Isobel! I’ve never heard of anything quite like this, but I’ll share your ask with some of my friends who might have.’

‘ConradTheGOAT: Lmao ur too young 2 b on the internet.’

‘AydenWells345: IDK ask your mum LMFAO.’

‘JakobKebab: Hi, maybe you’re trans? You should look into it.’

Trans… That sounds familiar… What is it though? You look it up. Along with the search comes an article. ‘What is it to be Transgender?’

You read the whole thing. For what you understood, you related. Feeling like you aren’t in the right body, not being able to see yourself as a woman, absolutely despising puberty and everything that comes with it, and more.

More websites await you, and you read every single one.

Some of them are great, informational, and overall really helpful. They make you feel understood, like maybe there’s a name for whatever this is that’s wrong with you. 

But then you start coming across the more negative ones. Apparently, people don’t like trans people. They think being trans is a sin, a choice, or makes someone a freak of nature. You don’t want to be a sinner or a freak of nature. You don’t think this is a choice, is it? You’d rather not be trans. You’d rather be happy being a woman. 

Then the websites get worse. Threats of killing, burning, and torturing trans people. Some threats are even more gruesome. Countries where it’s illegal to be trans, and countries where it is punishable by death. 

Are you really trans? You can’t be. This isn’t normal, this is some outlaw-ish freaky shit. You can’t be like this, it’s impossible. You’re not a criminal. You’re not a pervert like these articles say. 

You shut your computer down and flop onto your bed, staring at the ceiling. Are you really like this? Some fucking weirdo? Some nasty fuck who’s got a brain that doesn’t think it’s a girl?

Ugh, what a monster. Pervert. Freak of nature. Sinner. You’re being an attention seeker, that’s what you’re doing. You’re making excuses for why the girls at school pick on you. You just wanna be special so people will pity you and pay attention to you. 

You grip your hair, trying not to let the tears come out of your eyes, but they do anyway, and it stings as they fall. 

“I don’t wanna be trans. I’ll be a girl. I’ll just be a normal girl,” You sob to no one but yourself. 

Three months go by. School is ass. Life is ass. Your friends are ass. Everything fucking sucks and you’re in pain once a month for a week because not only do you have periods, but your cramps are chronically severe, according to the school nurse. 

So life fucking sucks. 

The name ‘Dove’ doesn’t sit right with you anymore. Teachers will call it out and you barely recognize it as your own. 

You feel so fucking fake all the time. Every time you put your hair into a ponytail, or you enter the girl’s locker room, or John calls you pretty, you feel so fake. 

Kids on your bus are ass, too. “Nice shades, Dove. Where’d you get ‘em? Weeb-Con?” A kid calls out, and you just ignore him. But inside there’s so much rage boiling up. It’s been rising and bubbling for so fucking long. 

You feel like you might just burst any minute. 

The apartment door squeaks like usual. It’s familiar and yet it annoys you this once. You go straight to the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror. 

It takes you a minute to recognize yourself, even after you take off your sunglasses. The second you realize those are your lips, your eyelashes, your… hair… hair… your long, flowing hair… you cut that shit off with a pair of scissors you stole from the school art room. 

You don’t realize what you’ve done until you’re finished and you see yourself in the mirror. Your hair is uneven for sure. But it’s short. You look… like a boy, almost.

Tears roll down your face, but they’re happy this time.

When you look back at yourself in the mirror, that’s when the undeniable truth hits you right in the forehead. 

“I’m… trans, aren’t I?”

The tears turn angry, sad, no more happy tears. Why do you have to be this way? That’s not fair. 

You hear the bathroom door open. Bro. “Roof in five.” It shuts. He doesn’t comment on your hair. 

Wiping your tears, you hurriedly walk to your room to get your katana. 

Strifes these days make you less excited than they used to. Now you kinda dread it. Training is tiring, you’re not seeing much of a point to it. But you know it’s for the best. Why else would Bro have you train? 

The training teaches lessons. Strifes make you stronger, more alert. Cameras remind you that you’re never alone. Chores remind you to keep up with responsibilities. The beatings teach you not to disrespect Bro.

It’s all for good reason. 

There’s a sharp pain in your side. Bro must’ve gotten you when you weren’t paying attention. That’s your fault for thinking of anything other than what’s going on right now. So you zone into strife-mode.

Strife-mode is basically where you just let yourself black out, your body focusing on the strife. You don’t know when you started doing it, but now you can make it happen on command. 

Your awareness of reality comes back after the strife. A cut across your side and some light bruising, nothing too bad, and surely nothing you can’t bandage up. 

Once Bro is gone, you walk downstairs, gripping your bleeding side. You’re careful not to get any blood on the floor as you hastily limp to your room, then unravel your bandages, wrapping them around your stomach, until the wound on your side is fully bandaged. 

The rest of the night is quiet. You just eat the remainder of a bag of Doritos and drink some AJ, watching shitty movies, just like you always do. You fall asleep to horribly edited CGI explosions. 

Sunshine glares through your curtains and into your eyes, waking you just before your alarm for school goes off. You groan, getting out of bed, gripping your aching side from your strife with Bro last night. 

Your reflection in the mirror is what catches you off guard. “Oh shit,” You whisper, noticing your hair that you had forgotten that you’d cut last night. Then your realization from after your hair-chopping breakdown hits you again. You’re trans. 

In all honesty, you should be more upset. You’re feeling rather unbothered by it either way right now. You’re just numb. 

Karkat is the first of your friends to notice your hair, or at least to say something. As soon as you walk to your locker, Karkat is staring at you, wide-eyed. “What the fuck happened to your hair?”

You aren’t entirely sure of what to say, so you just shrug and force a small chuckle. “Y’know…” You say, trailing off, not planning on finishing the sentence. 

“I’m gonna go get Kanaya, she can fix this mess, I think,” Karkat sighs, rolling his eyes and walking down the hall to find his friend. 

He’s back quicker than you expected, Kanaya’s wrist in hand as he annoyedly marches toward you. He’s about to say something to her when she gasps, “Oh dear, Dove. Follow me, I can fix this.”

In the girls’ bathroom with Kanaya, other students stare at the two of you as the minute bell rings. Kanaya pays them no mind though and says nothing as she trims your hair to make it appear more… not shitty. 

When she’s done, you have to hold yourself back from beaming like an idiot. You look… like a guy. You thank Kanaya and head to class, feeling a lot better than you felt when you woke up.

Lunch rolls around and you make your way to your regular table. Jade is already there, talking with Nepeta about animal biology, but no one else is there yet. 

“Oh, hi Dove! Pur hair is so cute!” Nepeta says, and you can’t help but give a small smile at her way of talking. Jade notices you as well and smiles.

“I really like it, you decided it was time to change it up, huh?” She asks, and you sorta nod. 

Feeling the way your hand is free of hair when you run it through, you grin. “Just decided it felt more like me, I guess.”

John slams his tray of food down, his jaw dropped. “Holy crap, Dove!” He sits down, then ruffles your hair. “Okay, be honest, are you a lesbian?” He asks, and you and Jade roll your eyes, while Nepeta cocks her head, confused. 

Karkat and Sollux walk over at the same time, arguing with each other about something to do with programs. 

When Karkat notices your hair, his whole face gets a bit pink, and you worry that he doesn’t like it, that he’s embarrassed for you. He shakes his head though and sits down next to Sollux. 

From time to time, you notice Karkat looking over at you, and when your eyes meet, he quickly looks away. You’re sure of it, he thinks you look stupid. He hates your hair. He probably hates you. He’ll never see you as a boy. 

Aradia takes a seat next to you. “Hi, Dove. I love your hair. It suits you very well,” She says, and her voice calms you down from your anxieties immediately. Overall, Aradia is an extremely calming troll. She’s fun to be around, too. She never fails to make you feel better. 

“Thanks, I uh… I like it too, I think,” You tell her, and nervously laugh. She smiles at you and nods.

“You should like it. Kanaya did a wonderful job. Karkat was telling me about your hair before, when we were in the lunch line. What happened to your hair originally?” She asks, and you shrug, getting nervous.

Looking around, it doesn’t seem like anyone else is listening, so you think it’s safe to say at least a bit of truth. “I just… I didn’t quite feel like myself, no biggie. How are you?” 

Aradia gives a soft grin, “I’m quite fine. Here, have some of my lunch,” She tells you, and slides her tray towards you as she cuts the school’s pizza in half, one half for you. “You seem hungry.”

To be fair, you are. Not having any food but Doritos can make a guy hungry. You take your half and ever-so-ungracefully eat it. “Thanks,” You say, in between bites, and Aradia chuckles at your mess, which makes you laugh as well. 

You think things might finally be looking up.


End file.
